Asphyxia
by The Young Blood Chronicles
Summary: Sherlock asks John's youngest sister to come live with them at 221B. And why should she say no, when her landlord was kicking her out anyway? Being quite the genius herself, she helps out Sherlock and John on their cases. But while doing so, she manages to catch the eye of a certain consulting criminal.. "Their relationship starts off weird, but what a love it will be." (SMUT)
1. Prologue

**Hello dearies, Nele here!**

 **(I know this message is long, but I advise reading it before actually reading the prologue.)**

 **So I want to start off by saying I know that I'm in no place to be starting yet another fanfic, as I still have two others I have to update, and a third one I might do a rewrite of. But whether I update a story or not depends on how much I'm into that fandom at the moment. So for example, I'm not all that into Supernatural right now, so I can't update my Spn story. I'm in a writer's block for that fanfiction. Same for my Doctor Who fic. Right now I'm really into Sherlock, so here you have a Sherlock fanfiction! ;) (I hope you guys can sort of relate to this, or otherwise it might seem I'm a bit weird… Which I am, but still…)**

 **If all goes well, I should be graduated from high school in about 3 weeks and a half. Then I have summer's holiday before I go to uni. That means I'll have two months in which I don't have any responsibilities, which means I'll have a lot of time to write. During that time all my fics should be fervently updated :)**

 **So now about this story. It's an OC story, like all my fanfics are. The OC is the younger sister of our dearest Doctor Watson (yes, very original, I know) and the story will have a Moriarty/OC pairing, with (maybe) a bit of Mycroft/OC, not sure about that yet. The rating is M, just like my other fics, and also for the same reason: adult content. (Mainly smut, maybe a lemon.)**

 **As you might have seen, one of the genres is humor. Though this fic (probably) won't turn out to be a crackfic, I'll try to add more humor to it than angst. Mainly because I'm getting a bit tired of angsty fics and think there is a need for fics with at least a bit of humor in them.**

 **If you want information on the OC, I'm afraid you'll have to wait just a little bit longer. Right after I've posted the first chapter you will be able to find some basic information on my profile, like her name, age, birthday, looks etc.**

 **Something I** _ **can**_ **tell you, is that she has a bit of a…** _ **strong**_ **personality. You'll see what I mean. I hope you'll give this story a chance though. Because of my own personality this story might not get updated regularly (just like my other fics tbh). I'm quite the procrastinator lol.**

 **This chapter is just a prologue, so that's why it's not that long. Usually my chapters are around 5000 words, though I try to write longer ones. But sometimes a chapter is just** _ **done,**_ **you know? :)**

 **The song at the beginning is a song that I think captures the essence of this story very well as well as the love that will grow between Jim and my OC. (You should definitely look it up as it is an awesome song by a great band!) It can be read from Jim's point of view as well as from my OC's POV.**

 **And I want to apologize for any spelling or grammatical mistakes you might read in this story. This fic is unbeta'd, and English is not my first language.**

 **One last thing before you can finally start reading the actual story, is the disclaimer. (If you read all this, I'll give you a virtual cookie!)**

 **Disclaimer:** **I don't own Sherlock or its characters. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss do. If I owned it, we probably wouldn't have to wait two whole years on three episodes. But sadly enough, I don't own the series. I only own my OC and any other things you don't recognize from the series.**

 **So now that's done, you can start reading. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Allons-y!**

* * *

 **"Time Is Running Out"**  
 **~ Muse**

I think I'm drowning

Asphyxiated

I wanna break this spell  
That you've created

You're something beautiful  
A contradiction  
I wanna play the game  
I want the friction

You will be the death of me  
You will be the death of me

Bury it  
I won't let you bury it  
I won't let you smother it  
I won't let you murder it

Our time is running out  
Our time is running out  
You can't push it underground  
You can't stop it screaming out

I wanted freedom  
Bound and restricted  
I tried to give you up  
But I'm addicted

Now that you know I'm trapped sense of elation  
You'd never dream of  
Breaking this fixation

You will squeeze the life out of me

Bury it  
I won't let you bury it  
I won't let you smother it  
I won't let you murder it

Our time is running out  
Our time is running out  
You can't push it underground  
You can't stop it screaming out  
How did it come to this?  
Oh

You will suck the life out of me

Bury it  
I won't let you bury it  
I won't let you smother it  
I won't let you murder it

Our time is running out  
Our time is running out  
You can't push it underground  
You can't stop it screaming out  
How did it come to this?  
Oh

* * *

 **Asphyxia ~ [as-** **fik** **-see-** _ **uh**_ **]**

 **-Noun: The state of not being able to breathe, suffocation**

* * *

When I look back at the life I've had, I think I can say, "What a life". I think that's the best way to describe the life I've had. A lot of crazy things happened, and a lot of things I hadn't been expecting at all.

But I guess that's life in general. Unexpected things. You know, when life gives you lemons…

If I apply that expression to my life, I think I can say I've had a lot of lemons. And not the fanfiction ones, you dirty minded reader… No, I mean the ones that give you all kinds of misery, the ones that you really don't want to receive.

But sometimes, good things come forth out of those lemons. For instance, I met him. My soulmate, or however you want to call it.

It wasn't love at first sight though, that's why I said it was a lemon.

When both of us think back to the early days, the time we met, we both laugh. I mean, we were so ridiculous! Just keep on reading, you'll see what I mean…

No for real, we fought, we yelled, we argued, we tried to outsmart each other,… We did all sorts of stuff to sabotage the other.

But that all changed, of course.

I think he was the first one to fall in love. And I mean the real deal. Because before that, he already claimed he loved me, calling me his queen. But I knew that wasn't real. No, that was just plain possessiveness.

I didn't let him have me. Why should I have done that? He was the one to kidnap me after all. Why should I give him what he wants? Would you have done that? You better not. Not to a guy like him. I rather would have died.

But that was in the past of course, you should look at us now. I'm writing this at the desk while he is asleep on the bed behind me, the sheets barely covering his naked body.

I want to write my story down to share it with all of you readers out there. Because my story might not be the best, but if you decide to read it, you better get ready, because you're in for a hell of a ride.

* * *

 **So, let me know what you guys think! I know this is still short, but that's only because it's a prologue. The future chapters should be longer, like I already said.**

 **And now I'm going to say something very important: I need you guys to review and let me know what you think. I know, you might not like authors asking/begging for reviews, but some of us (like me) are very insecure about their writing style, and will not feel okay with it if no one tells them what they think of their story. It doesn't have to be much, 1 word is already enough! And it doesn't take away too much time to give an author some feedback.**

 **That being said, I hope you guys enjoyed it so far, and I hope to 'see' you again at the first chapter! ;)**

 **-Nele**


	2. Chapter 1: The beginning of the end

**Hello dearies! Welcome to the very first chapter!**

 **Well I don't have much to say here this time since I told you everything you needed to know in the prologue, and the rest is for you to find out! ;)**

 **So without much further ado, here's the first chapter! Happy readings!**

 **Disclaimer:** **I don't own Sherlock or its characters. Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss do. If I owned it, we probably wouldn't have to wait two whole years on three episodes. But sadly enough, I don't own the series. I only own my OC and any other things you don't recognize from the series.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: The beginning of the end**

 _I was running through a dark, deserted hallway, my body filled with fear. Looking behind me didn't do me much good, because it was too dark to see anything, but I still tried to see if he was still following me. I didn't know where I was or why I was there, and I didn't even know who was chasing me. I only had the strong feeling of fear, the feeling that if I stopped running I would die. So I ran for my life._

 _The hallway seemed to have no ending, nor did it seem to have a beginning. It just existed. And I just kept running through it, no clue as to where I was headed._

 _Suddenly a loud roar came from behind me. The anxiety inside me doubled and I screamed. But instead of speeding up, I seemed to be slowing down._

' _Fuck! This cannot be happening!' I thought while looking behind me, though I still couldn't see anything._

 _At the same moment when I looked back ahead of me, I bumped into something. Or rather a_ someone, _because he grabbed me by the arms, preventing me from falling. I tried looking at him, but I couldn't see his face. I could tell he was a male from his posture, but I couldn't see any details. He didn't say anything either. He cupped my face with one of his hands, caressing it. I didn't feel any fear for this man. He leaned down and kissed me softly and quickly, and I only felt loved._

 _When he released me from his hold, I was afraid he would go, but then he held out his hand for me to take. I took it and held on to it for dear life._

 _At that moment, the roar I had heard earlier sounded throughout the hallway again, and we took off running._

 _But I didn't feel scared anymore. I felt safe while holding onto this unknown man's hand. I had the feeling that, him and me together, could take on the world._

 _I smiled._

* * *

I was still smiling when I woke up. I stretched out lazily. I had been having that dream for the past three weeks now. Though I had no clue as to what it could mean, it didn't bother me as much as it probably should. The only irritating thing about the dream was that I couldn't see the face of the man. The man that had made me feel loved. Made me feel safe. I wanted to know how he looked like. Though I probably never would. In the three weeks I had been having this dream it hadn't changed one bit.

My smile faded and I opened my eyes. One thing I noticed immediately, was how light it was in my bedroom. Crap. Not good. I slowly turned my head towards my alarm clock, hoping I was not going to see what I was expecting to see. When I saw the red digits that displayed the current time, I groaned loudly. _8.32 am._

My first day at my new job and I was already late. Fan-bloody-tastic. I can't believe I slept through my alarm clock again!

I pushed the duvet off of me and clambered out of my warm bed. I grabbed some fresh clothes and hurried to my bathroom. After a turbo shower, I dried my long ginger hair and straightened it. I took my time straightening it, because if I didn't, my hair would go all frizzy because of the weather. The perks of living in London.

Twenty-five minutes after I had entered the bathroom, I emerged from the room dressed in a black skinny jeans, a dark green button-up blouse and a black cardigan. I put on a pair of socks and after that my favorite pair of boots. They were a warm brown, low-heeled pair and they were very comfy. Perfect for running around all day like I was probably going to be doing today.

I put in the earrings I had inherited from my gran and put on the necklace I had gotten from my brother, a locket with the first letter of my name, a capital letter A.

I swiftly braided my hair, put on my black duffle coat and black fedora, then my dark green scarf. After grabbing my bag, I took an apple from the fruit basket on my table to eat on my way to the hospital, and left my apartment.

After managing to get a taxi to stop, I gave the driver my destination, Saint Bart's hospital, and started eating my apple.

I took out my phone to see if I had received any messages, and saw that I indeed had one new message from my brother John.

 _Good luck on your first day! Don't have too much fun… Love, John._

I smiled. It was nice to know he cared. I knew Harry cared as well, though she didn't sent me a text. Knowing through how hard of a time she was going, I wasn't expecting her too either.

Sighing, I texted John back and afterwards I stared out of the window, watching the rain drip down the glass, lost in thoughts.

We arrived at the hospital at half past nine. I paid the cabbie the right amount of money and hurried my way to the hospital. I couldn't afford giving the cabbie a tip, I was already struggling to pay the rent, I still had to pay the landlord two months of rent. But I finally managed to get a job, so that shouldn't be much of a trouble anymore soon.

It was weird though that no one was willing to employ a 24 year old girl, recently graduated from university with four doctorates on her name. I was glad the woman from the morgue of this hospital did though, I thought while going down the elevator. Molly Hooper, I believe her name was.

When I got out of the elevator, I followed the arrows directed to the morgue. Rushing through the door without knocking, I said, "I know I'm late and I'm very sorry. I…"

I trailed off when I saw what was happening in front of me. A tall man was hitting a corpse with a… riding crop? And not just softly either, he was giving that corpse the worst smacks he'll ever get in its time being dead. Wow, that sounded wrong, even in my head. But still… it didn't take away the fact that that weird man was smacking that body as if his life depended on it.

"What the bloody hell," I muttered.

The man quickly glanced in my direction before continuing what he was doing. I kept staring at him for a while, until I felt someone shake my arm.

"Miss Watson?" I heard a female voice ask me.

I turned my head and saw Molly Hooper had walked up to me.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry for being late, and that on my first day! I slept through my alarm clock, it really wasn't my intention to be an hour late-" I rambled, until she broke me off.

"It's alright Miss Watson," she smiled at me. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

I smiled back at her. "Thank you miss Hooper, I'll try my best."

"Oh please, just call me Molly, I don't like to be all formal with colleagues," she said.

I nodded. "Okay, but only if you call me Andrea instead of Miss Watson."

She nodded her head too, and we smiled at each other. Then we heard a shout coming from the man beside us. We both glanced at him. He had now begun to yell while hitting the body. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Molly moved away behind a glass wall and motioned me to follow her.

"So, what's his deal?" I asked her, jerking my head into the man's direction.

She glanced at him before looking back at me. "Oh him? That's just Sherlock. He comes here to test his experiments."

"Oh! So that what he's doing now is an experiment? That makes sense," I said. Molly looked at me oddly, so I felt the need to explain. "When you hit the corpse hard enough, certain bruises will appear. Those bruises are a good indicator to see what sort of weapon or object made them. So possibly he has seen bruises on another corpse or something and wanted to compare those bruises to the ones he is making right now, to see if they were created by the same object, in this case a riding crop." Molly smirked at me, and then realization hit me. "But as a pathologist, you already knew that, so you were just testing me," I said, smiling.

She grinned at me. "Just wanted to make sure you were as good as your professor claimed you were. I'm glad to see you are."

I grinned back at her. "Thanks, I better be, with four doctorates."

She nodded her head at me. "Indeed." She already knew about my four doctorates and how I got them, so there was no need to talk about that any further.

She then saw I was still wearing my coat and scarf, and pointed me the rack where I could hang them up. After I had done that, I walked back towards Molly, only to see her apply some lipstick to her lips. I frowned a bit, until I saw her glance at Sherlock again. My frown turned into a knowing little smirk.

"You like him, don't you?" I asked her when I reached her.

She looked up at me with wide eyes. "Shhhh don't say that so loud!"

I was just about to respond to her, when a deep baritone voice sounded from behind me. "Don't say what so loud? I didn't say anything."

I rolled my eyes before turning to face him. He obviously hadn't heard what I said to Molly.

Molly didn't answer and looked at me, pleading for help. I sighed. "It's none of your concern, Mister…" I trailed off, asking for his name.

He looked me up and down, before his gaze settled on my face and said, "Holmes. The name's Sherlock Holmes."

I was just about to tell him my name, but he started talking again. "And you are obviously Molly's new colleague, late for your first day at your new job. You look to be 26, though I think you actually are 27 or 28. You own a cat and care a lot about your jewelry, indicating you must have gotten them from a relative. You usually wear glasses, but today you are wearing lenses, probably to make you look prettier than you are. You are generally very nonchalant in everything you do, making it seem like there's nothing or no one you actually care about, which is quite right I'm afraid," he finished his ramble.

He was looking at me expectantly, as was Molly. I gazed back at him calmly.

"That was quite rude Mister Holmes, and you even deduced a few things wrong. My turn now, if you don't mind," I started, and he looked mildly surprised. "You are either 30 or 31 years old, my guess is 31. You care a lot about your appearance, though you let your clothes get the smell of cigarettes in them, which indicates you are messy in the things you do. Your flat is probably a hell of a mess right now, you better clean that up, you don't want the ladies to see that, now do you? Or maybe lads? Hmm not sure about that. You are into the crime solving business, possibly a detective inspector or something like that. You are plain rude, making it seem like there's no one that cares about you, which is quite right I'm afraid," I finished my deduction of him. If he wasn't nice to me, I sure as hell wasn't going to be nice to him.

I kept my gaze on him, wanting to see how he would react. From out of the corner of my eye I could see Molly gaping at me like a goldfish.

Sherlock looked at me blankly, before a small smile formed on his lips. "Impressive. You only got one thing wrong." I smirked at him and bowed my head in thanks.

He took a note book from his coat pocket and started writing in it. "I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me," he said to Molly, not even looking at her.

"Listen, I was wondering, maybe later, when you're finished-", Molly started, but Sherlock broke her off.

"Are you wearing lipstick? You weren't wearing lipstick before," he said after taking a look at her.

"I, eh, I refreshed it a bit," she said nervously, anxious for his reaction.

He stared long at her, before turning back to his notebook while asking her, "Sorry, you were saying?"

I already had a feeling as to where this was heading to. My suspicions were confirmed when the pathologist said, "I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee."

Sherlock then put his notebook away, looked at her and said, "Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs." And then he walked away.

Molly muttered an 'okay', while I was glaring at his retreating back. I hadn't known Molly for long, but I liked her. And let me tell you one thing, you don't mess with the people I like.

"Oh Molly, I'm sorry," I said while patting her back. "Don't mind him, he's just a jerk."

She rubbed her cheeks furiously, trying to make the red that had appeared on her face from embarrassment go away. "I know I shouldn't get my hopes up on being with him, but when you like someone you can't help it, you know?"

I nodded my head, putting my arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Let's just go make that prick's coffee."

She nodded miserably and we walked to the coffee corner together. She made the coffee, with the two sugars like he had asked.

"I'll come with you," I said and she smiled at me gratefully, glad she wouldn't have to go to him again on her own.

When we were in the elevator, I asked her, "Could you give me that cup for a second please?"

She did as I asked her, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. I took the cup from her and smirked evilly before spitting in it.

Molly gasped in shock. "Andrea! What did you do that for?!"

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry, because I'm not," I said while stirring the coffee. "It's just that I don't like rude people, and I always make sure they get what they deserve."

I then looked at her, handing her back the coffee. "And Sherlock Holmes, my dearest Molly, was incredibly rude to you."

She smiled back at me nervously, not sure how to react to that. She took out a handkerchief from one of her pockets and removed the lipstick, looking at her reflection in the mirror glass in the elevator.

We walked towards the lab where Sherlock was in silence. When we entered, Molly immediately brought him the coffee, while I remained watching from out of the doorstep.

"Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you," he said. Then after looking at her closely he asked, "What happened to the lipstick?"

Molly smiled awkwardly at him. "It wasn't working for me."

" Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now," he said while walking to the spot where he was working earlier.

I glared at him, but smirked when I saw him take a sip of the coffee and grimaced. _Ah, revenge is sweet._

Then I noticed there were two other men in the room. One of them had his back to me, but I could recognize the sandy blonde hair anywhere.

"John!" I exclaimed happily. He turned to face me and a smile formed on his face when he saw me.

"Oomph!", he let out his breath when I tackled him into a bone crushing hug. "Take it easy there Andy, I'm still a man with a walking cane," he said while putting his free arm around me.

"I'm just happy to see you," I smiled into his shoulder.

He chuckled. "Andy, we saw each other yesterday." He slowly let go off me.

"I know, but I'm just always happy to see you," I grinned at him.

Then I looked at the other man in the room. "Oh Mister Stamford, I didn't see you there."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Andrea, how many times do I have to remind you, you're not my student anymore. You can call me Mike now."

"Well old habits die hard, I guess," I smirked.

Behind me I heard Molly mutter an 'okay' and when I turned to her I saw her walk out the door.

"John, _Mike_ , it was nice seeing you, but I should probably get back to work," I said. They both smiled at me, and after a small wave in their direction I walked out the door. I sprinted to catch up with Molly and we went back to the morgue together.

When we got there, she explained my tasks to me and we got to work. We worked in silence for a couple of minutes until she broke it.

"Uhm, I wanted to tell you, thanks, for what you did… No one has ever done something like that for me, I mean, something that kind. So thank you," she smiled at me and I smiled back at her widely.

"No problem Molls, I just gave him what he had coming."

She was just about to answer me, when my phone rang. The Pirates of the Caribbean tune sounded through the morgue rather loudly, and I cringed. _Inappropriate!_

Molly just looked at me in amusement, her eyebrows raised.

"Hello?" I answered the call.

" _Yes, hello Miss Watson. This is Henry Thompson speaking,"_ he answered.

Oh crap. My landlord. I had a feeling where this phone call was going to lead to, and I mentally sighed.

"What can I do for you, Mister Thompson?" I said tensely.

" _I'm going to cut right to the chase, I want you out of the flat by the end of this week. I know you have found a job now but I'll still have to wait an entire month until you can pay me the money you owe me, and I can't wait for that."_

My heart dropped into my stomach and I bowed my head sadly. "I understand Mister Thompson. I'll make sure my stuff is gone by the end of the week."

" _Good,"_ he sounded pleased. " _Thank you for understanding. Have a nice day, Miss Watson."_ Then he hung up.

I sighed heavily while putting my phone away. Molly looked at me, concerned. "You okay?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I waved her off. "It's no big deal."

"Obviously, it is," a deep baritone voice suddenly sounded from behind me. I turned and came face to face with Sherlock. He was looking at me expectantly.

"What does it matter to you?" I asked him, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

He didn't seem fazed by my defensive stance. "I'm going to look at a flat with your brother tomorrow, I thought you might want to come."

I raised my eyebrows. "Wait, you're going to share a flat with John?"

"Possibly, yes. And maybe with you too, if you want."

"I don't know…" I said, unsure.

"Oh come on, I heard you talking to your landlord on the phone. I know you are in need of a new place to stay. And uhm…" he trailed off. What was that all about? He didn't seem like an insecure kind of guy to me.

"I would like to keep a person almost as clever as me close by. To make life more bearable," he said. I could tell that this was a big deal to him, he was not the kind of guy to give compliments easily.

So what was I going to do? He was right about me needing a place though…

I sighed. "What's the address? And when are we meeting?"

He smiled. "It's 221B Baker street. And we're meeting there at 7pm. Don't be late."

"I'll try not to be," I smirked.

He turned and walked to the door. On his way there he picked up his riding crop, probably that was the reason he came back down. He walked through the door without looking back.

I turned to Molly. She was gaping at me with her mouth open. I rose my eyebrows. "What?" I asked her. When she didn't answer me, I rolled my eyes. "Please close your mouth Molly, you don't want to catch flies."

That seemed to bring her back. "I can't believe you're going to be living with Sherlock! I though you hated him?" she asked me timidly.

"I'm not sure yet if I'll actually go and live with him, you know. I need to see the flat first," I said. "And I don't hate him, I just dislike the way he acts around you."

* * *

After that morning, the day went by pretty fast, and so did the next. Before I knew it, I was getting out of a cab at 221 Baker Street. Sherlock was already standing outside of the building, waiting for me and John. I joined him.

"Good evening, Mister Holmes," I said. I held out my hand and he shook it.

"Oh please, if we might end up living together you might as well just call me Sherlock. No need for formalities," he said.

I nodded my head. "Alright. You can call me Andrea as well then."

"Oh so _that's_ what Andy stands for!" he exclaimed, and I chuckled. He acted like that had been the greatest mystery of his life or something.

"Of course, what did you think it stood for?" I asked him, but he didn't answer me. He just shook his head, waving it off.

At that moment, John arrived. He paid the cabbie and then walked up to us.

"Mister Holmes," John said as he held his hand out for Sherlock to shake.

They shook hands, Sherlock saying, "Sherlock, please."

He turned to me and gave me a quick hug. "Andy," he said in greeting.

We had talked on the phone last night, so he knew what had happened with my landlord, and that Sherlock had suggested I came too.

I smiled at him. "John."

John took a look at the building, then turned to Sherlock. "Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive."

I nodded my head in agreement. This place looked like it wasn't going to be cheap. That's why he probably wanted to share it with one or more people, as it would make the price cheaper for everyone.

Sherlock assured us. "Oh, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favor. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."

John looked confused. "Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?" he asked Sherlock.

"Oh no. I ensured it," Sherlock said, smiling at John and I snorted.

At that moment the front door was opened by an elderly lady with short blond hair with a few grey streaks in them, wearing a purple dress.

"Sherlock, hello," the woman exclaimed, embracing Sherlock.

He hugged her back briefly and then stepped aside to introduce us to the landlady. "Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson and his sister Andrea Watson."

While my brother was greeting her, I poked my finger into Sherlock's chest. "I'm a doctor too, you know. It's rude not calling people by their proper title." He looked mildly surprised.

I turned to Mrs. Hudson and gave her a warm smile. "Hello!"

She greeted me back just as warmly and then gestured for us to come in. We climbed the stairs to the first floor, Sherlock went first. He waited for us at the top before walking into the flat.

John and I entered behind him, looking around at the messy apartment. The living wasn't big, but it was cozy. The kitchen looked very nice, although there were lots of chemistry equipment installed on the table. There was a skull on the mantelpiece and boxes everywhere. Overall, it looked like it could be a lovely flat, once tidied up.

"Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed," John said, voicing my thoughts.

"Yes. Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely," Sherlock answered while looking around the flat with a pleased look on his face.

"So I went straight ahead and moved in," he continued, at the same time John said, "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out ... Oh." He paused, embarrassed, when he realized he just called all of Sherlock's stuff 'rubbish'.

Sherlock turned away, making a half-hearted attempt at tidying the flat up a bit. "Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit," he muttered.

At that moment I decided to speak up. "I told you your flat would be a mess." He just rolled his eyes at me.

John's eyes fell upon the skull on the mantelpiece. "That's a skull," he deadpanned.

"Friend of mine. When I say 'friend'…" Sherlock answered him.

"How do you call him?" I asked Sherlock.

John looked at me, irritated. "Andy, you can't just go and ask people what they call their skull," he scolded me.

I just snorted. Sherlock watched our interaction with an amused look on his face. "George. His name is George."

Mrs. Hudson then entered the flat as well. She picked up a cup and saucer while Sherlock took off his coat and scarf.

"What do you two think then, John, Andrea?" she asked us.

"I like it," I answered her, smiling. "It's very cozy. I've decided already, I'm moving in."

She smiled back at me, pleased with my answer. "There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing three."

"Of _course_ we'll be needing three," John said. "She's my sister."

"I know she's your sister, silly. I meant you and Sherlock." John was about to protest, but she interrupted him. "Oh, don't worry, there's all sorts round here." Her voice turned into a whisper. "Mrs. Turner next door got married ones." She turned and walked into the kitchen.

I couldn't help it, I laughed. John glared at me, but that only made me laugh harder. Why didn't she assume me and Sherlock were together? I mean, she immediately assumed John and Sherlock were gay! John looked to Sherlock for help, but Sherlock ignored the situation.

When I was done laughing, I said, "I claim the bedroom upstairs!"

Both of the men shrugged, as if it didn't really matter to them. We could hear Mrs. Hudson rummaging around in the kitchen. "Oh, Sherlock. The mess you've made," she muttered.

John walked around to one of the armchairs, plumped up the cushion and sat down into the chair. He looked across the room at Sherlock, who was still tidying up a bit.

"I looked you up on the internet last night," he said.

Sherlock turned to him. "Anything interesting?"

"Found your website, The Science of Deduction."

Sherlock smiled proudly. "What did you think?"

"It was interesting. I don't know how you two do it, but I think it's very clever. You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb," John said.

"Yes, and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone."

I looked at Sherlock. "I'm going to check your website later, it sounds very interesting."

He turned to me and smiled briefly. "So," he started. "You can deduce as well? Surprised me earlier."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I've been able to do that since I was a child. Freaked everyone out. Ask John if you don't believe me," I said, jerking my head in John's direction.

My brother chuckled, but it didn't sound like he meant it as if he found that funny. He must have been remembering all the times I came home crying when the other children kept calling me 'freak'. With being able to deduce things comes a prize.

"You're good at it," he complimented me. "You only got one thing wrong."

I frowned. "Yes I was going to ask you about that. What did I got wrong?"

He smirked. "I'll tell you that later."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll tell you what you got wrong about me later as well then."

We nodded our heads simultaneously at each other in agreement.

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson walked into the living room, holding the newspaper in her hands. "What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same," she said.

"Four," Sherlock said, looking out of the window. "There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time."

I walked over to the window too and saw a police car with flashing lights standing on the porch.

"A fourth?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

Sherlock and I turned to the stairs when the sound of someone climbing them could be heard. A man in his late thirties, early forties came into view.

Sherlock apparently already knew this man, as he immediately asked him, "Where?"

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens," the man answered, slightly out of breath.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different," Sherlock answered him, sounding like he couldn't care less.

"You know how they never leave notes?" the man asked, on which Sherlock replied with 'yeah'. "This one did. Will you come?"

Sherlock still looked like he was doubting. "Who's on forensics?"

"It's Anderson," the man begrudgingly admitted.

Sherlock immediately grimaced. Whoever this 'Anderson' was, Sherlock did _not_ like him. "Anderson won't work with me."

"Well, he won't be your assistant," the man said, slightly irritated.

"I _need_ an assistant," Sherlock immediately said.

"Will you come?" the man asked again, sounding desperate.

Sherlock finally agreed, "Not in a police car. I'll be right behind."

"Thank you," the man breathed, before turning around and leaving.

Sherlock waited until he was gone before a huge smile broke out on his face. "Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!" he jumped.

"Mrs. Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food," he said, while putting on his coat and scarf.

"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper," she scolded him, but he ignored her statement.

"Something cold will do. John, Andrea, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!"

And with that he was gone. John looked at me with a 'what the hell just happened' expression. I just shrugged.

Mrs. Hudson turned to us. "Look at him, dashing about! _My_ husband was just the same."

John grimaced at the second implication that he and Sherlock are together. I smiled and shook my head wearily.

"But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell," she said to John. "I'll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg," she said, turning towards the kitchen.

"Damn my leg!" John suddenly shouted, startling Mrs. Hudson and me as well.

He was instantly sorry about it. It was probably just an outing of emotions. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing…" he said while hitting his leg with his cane.

I walked up to him and sat down on the armrest, putting my arm around his shoulder. I felt sorry for him. He didn't ask to be shot. The wound healed and what he had now was psychosomatic, but still.

"I understand, dear," Mrs. Hudson assured him. "I've got a hip." She turns towards the kitchen again.

"Cup of tea'd be lovely, thank you," John said, picking up the newspaper.

"I'd like one too, Mrs. Hudson!" I called out to her.

"Just this once, dearies. I'm not your housekeeper," she said.

"Couple of biscuits too, if you've got 'em," John said, and I nodded my head in agreement.

"Not your housekeeper!" she reminded us.

John was looking at the newspaper while I walked over to the mantelpiece, inspecting George.

We were both interrupted when Sherlock's voice suddenly said, "You're a doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor."

I turned around and saw he had re-entered the room, and was now talking to John.

"Yes," John answered, getting to his feet.

"Any good?" Sherlock asked him.

John nodded. " _Very_ good."

I rolled my eyes. Brag.

"Seen a lot of injuries, then, violent deaths," Sherlock assumed.

"Mmm, yes."

"Bit of trouble too, I bet."

"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much," John said softly.

Sherlock knew he had my brother exactly where he wanted him to be. "Wanna see some more?"

"Oh god yes," John exclaimed, and they turned towards the door, until Sherlock suddenly turned back to me.

"And what about you?" he asked me. "You said you were a doctor earlier, what is your doctorate?"

I shrugged. "Which one? I've got four."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "You're pretty young to have four doctorates. If I add the deducing to it, I think it's safe to assume that you're pretty clever. What are your doctorates?"

"I'm pretty clever, yes. And I've got a doctorate in Chemistry, Criminology, Biology and Pathology," I told him proudly.

His eyes sparked in interest. "Do you want some experience in the field?"

I grinned at him. "Sure, why not?"

He grinned back at me. "Brilliant!" He hooked his arm into mine and lead me towards the stairs.

While we were descending the staircase, John called out to Mrs. Hudson, "Sorry, Mrs Hudson, we'll skip the tea. Off out."

"Both of you?" she asked us when we reached the bottom.

Sherlock turned to Mrs. Hudson, still smiling widely. "Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something _fun_ going on!" he grabbed the elderly lady by her shoulders and kisses her on her cheek.

Mrs. Hudson chuckled a bit as she poked him in his side. "Look at you, all happy. It's not decent!"

"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!" he called out to her as he was stepping through the front door.

We followed him outside and saw how he immediately got a taxi to stop. We got inside of the cabbie, Sherlock first, then John and me as last.

* * *

 **Mystery Person's POV**

I watched as the two Watson's got into the cab with Sherlock. That woman… She was interesting. I already knew about dear Sherly, but thanks to the small microphones I have let Seb put up, I now also knew about _her_.

 _Andrea._

A _woman_ just as clever as Sherlock, who would have thought that was possible?

And the fact that she now lived together with him was also interesting. Though I surprised myself by discovering I couldn't stand it.

She would be a better fit at my side. The side of the demons. She's got her hair color to match, fiery red. _Gorgeous._

And it was at that moment I decided I would have her. She was going to become my queen. We were going to rule the criminal world together. Me and her.

 _Andrea, I'm coming for you…_

* * *

 **So that was that! The first chapter in this fic. I hoped you guys liked it, and if you did, make sure to leave a review or follow/favorite the story!**

 **As you might have noticed, I've changed a few things here and there. No major things I think, but it was still necessary.**

 **I want to thank Doctor394 and draconisnoire43 for following this story.**

 **See you next time!**

 **-Nele**


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